


Cor Cordium

by notobsessedjustobservant



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: F/M, Hospital scene, Nurse MJ, during Infinity War, injured peter, this is a lil sad not gonna lie
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2018-04-15
Packaged: 2019-04-20 07:31:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14255997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notobsessedjustobservant/pseuds/notobsessedjustobservant
Summary: She felt sick to her stomach. Here was a small, Brooklyn boy that’s she’s known forever.Peter Parker. Her first kiss. Her first crush. Her first friend.





	Cor Cordium

She blamed the war.

That stupid war. It had an even stupider name. 

Infinity war.

What a reassuring name for a war, right? Infinity. It sure _felt_ like infinity. Like it was infinite. It feels like it’s been years since the war began when in reality it only began just a fresh four months ago.

Right now, at this time of the year, she would be preparing for how to fundraise for Acadec’s National’s trip. Right now she’s helping Sister Nancy with bandaging a soldier due to his right shoulder’s bullet wound. 

Turns out, job shadowing a doctor the year before, taking a vocational nursing class for the summer, and being the daughter of a distinguished surgeon allowed MJ to be an “assistant” to the nurses at the renowned Christian hospital. She thought she was going to burn when she entered the hospital since she hadn’t attended church since she was five. 

In true MJ fashion, she went against the grain. Most of her classmates went west for safety or they went on to go to college and do something that would make them forget of the current predicament. But, she’s MJ and she decided to stay in Brooklyn because it’s what she does. She protests and infiltrates the system till there’s change and there was change that was needed so she stayed to help out. Volunteering at the hospital was the best thing she could do other than enlisting in the army.

She thought she would have all the time in the world. Help out here and go there and end up somewhere in college and become a journalist or maybe a lawyer or maybe both. There was infinite options and infinite time. Ironically, thanks to whoever named the war, it didn’t seem like that anymore.

She saw time at it’s best at her times at the hospital. When she was at home and only heard minimum tumbling and rumbling from whatever alien came down, she could pretend that it was the traffic, a dog barking and got stuck in a trash can again, or maybe Spider- Man making a fuss with Ms. Weber in order to walk her across her the street although each time she adamantly refused and called his actions offending. She could pretend that it was anything.

At the hospital, she couldn’t pretend anymore. The amount of people being rushed in per day for treatment of their wounds or the dead bodies brought for families to anxiously wait and hope not to be able to name. The civilians and soldiers and everyone in between coming in and rarely coming out. Most came delirious or screaming due to the pain. Some silent as if accepting death.

She didn’t know which was worse to witness.

  


“You see that curtain box, over there? Acute surgical, but there’s no need to wear a mask. Just talk to him, hold his hand, make him feel better.” She makes a shooing motion and MJ tilts her head.

MJ was both offended and confused. It was only 9:12 PM and she just came at 7:00 PM sharp. “I’m not tired.”

“I’m not asking.”

She knew what that meant. “Okay.”

She walks away and gives a curt smile towards the older lady. While walking, she looks through the ceiling long glass. The moon, in all its bright glory, seemed sad in a way.

She pulls behind the curtain and she doesn’t know what to expect. The person must be special since the curtain beds were only given to the high ranking soldiers or generals. 

Oddly enough, it seemed as though Peter Parker was special.

Peter Parker. Her first kiss. Her first crush. Her first friend. 

The curly brunette haired boy sat there waiting patiently with a bandage around his head as his head laid uncomfortably on top of three pillows. He looked as though he was expecting her. His eyes were looking off into the distance till she pulled back the curtain and caused him to look at her.

“Hi.” Even she didn’t know she could be this lame.

“Hello.” Maybe he’s still as lame as she faintly remembers him as.

She sits at the chair next to his bed and takes his hand. It was cold and greasy. 

He closes his eyes and grits his teeth, but he lets out a harsh breath and he seems fine again. He pats her hand in reassurance as if to say that he is fine. 

“What is your name, again? You look familiar but I can’t remember it. It’s because of my injury, my memory has been weakening.”

Under the strict code of the Sisters, it was extremely important to ever give out real names, but in this case MJ’s real name wasn’t of importance to her. 

“Michelle.”

“Michelle. That’s very pretty.” By the way that he said it, it kind of was.

“Do you remember me?.”

_Yes, I remember everything._

She remembers their study sessions, prom, meeting Stark, meeting Aunt May, being in his life.

She lies. “Only a little bit. It’s been so long.”

He smiles. “Well, I know it’s been a long time, but I remember you. Do you still go to that bakery with really good monkey bread with your brother on twenty- third street? You used to always go there.”

And _that_ was when she realized that he was actually thinking of Liz, not her. MJ had no siblings. Liz had an older brother and sister so _no_ , actually _she_ doesn’t go to that bakery.

“No, dude,” she raises her eyebrows in emphasis, “I’m Michelle. I never went there.”

“No,” he stresses laughingly, as though it was comical that she forgot her own past, “that was you.”

She was about to contradict him; tell him you’ve got the wrong girl, you’ve got your hopes up for the wrong person, but she remembered something. Sister Nancy told her to “make him feel better” so she had to do what she had to do.

“I remember know. Yes, sometimes I still go.” He nods, affirming that claim. 

“You know, my aunt told me that you’d be good for me, and she thought you that I should ask you out because you are catch. I think it had to do with the fact that you’re Acadec captain and during our study sessions you seemed to pull your shit better than Ned and me.”

Wait. Just, wait. 

They _did_ have study sessions at his house and she _did_ meet Aunt May. 

Now, she’s just confused.

Then again, patients under extreme pain tend to be delirious and Peter could be making this straight out of his ass. 

“I liked your aunt. She knew the best place to get Thai take out.”

He laughs. “Yeah, she did.” His face crinkles in worry before he says, “Do you think I’ll be able to get out of here and see her?”.

_Honestly, no. But, wishfully, yes._

“Yes.”

He closes his eyes again and there’s a strange calmness to his face. “Do you mind fixing my bandages for me? They’re awfully tight.”

“Yes, of course.”

She loosens the bandage and lifts his head lightly to get the part underneath his head to loosen. 

He’s rambling something incoherently. Rabbits, Ned, and floral center pieces. 

She didn’t mean to remove the gauze in place. When she loosened the bandage, so did the gauze. It moved and she could see the injury clear as day. A clear portion of his skull was missing. 

She was shocked. She thought he was invincible, he was Spider-Man. But, unfortunately even an eighteen year old boy with super powers can be beat.

With shaky hands, she puts the gauze back in place and bandages it up as she faintly hears him ask her a question.

She grabs his hand, more to steady herself from the shock of the severity of the wound than anything else and asks, “Huh?”.

“Do you love me?”.

On any other day, she would have said no. No because she only had a small, small crush on him and she didn’t quite love him. 

Developing a small crush on the guy wasn’t hard. It wasn’t like he _wasn’t_ crush material.  
He was a straight A, insanely nice, awkward little dweeb. Her type. 

It didn’t help when he saw her when he was on the floor after some purple guy threw him on the ground as she walked home from the hospital three months ago. And then he also kissed her, but that’s whatever.

And, yeah, maybe there was some unresolved romantic or sexual tension between them because before the war started they became insanely close to becoming something. 

And now, they were nothing.

But, in that moment, in that sad night, she honestly felt like could overlook it all, like maybe she did love him. Maybe he was the first love she will ever have.

She tightens her grip on his hand. There was no other acceptable response for her to say other than what she did say. “Yes.” 

She felt sick to her stomach. Here was a small, Brooklyn boy that’s she’s known forever. She saw him when he was going through puberty, when he was getting bullied for being the new kid, when he wasn’t all of a sudden muscular before she realized what his real “internship” was. That boy, that same boy she’s known almost all her life was dying. 

She hears him mumble something along the lines of, “...and of course she was a horrible teacher...why yes I would like a pack of gummy worms...no, no, come back,” while he was staring at the wall in front. 

When he becomes lucid again, he asks, “Stay, won’t you?”.

“I won’t leave. I’ll be here tomorrow too.”

“Michelle-“.

He closes his eyes, furiously. He makes a movement as though he were to lunge at her, and she jumps, but she realizes all he wanted was a hug.

He holds her there, to his chest, and she’s afraid he might feel her tears or worse, his bandages might move.

This was terribly unprofessional but she didn’t quite care at that moment. She lifts herself up and wipes away her tears with the back of her hand. 

“MJ,” she blinks furiously. The tears welling up again at the sight of him. “My name’s MJ.”

She looks down to see his eyes widen as though he was unable to comprehend the new information. His hold on her hand weakens and she’s scared. She couldn’t feel his pulse.

“Jones.” She immediately drops his hand and looks back to see Sister Lewdy. 

“Stand up.” 

She does as told and looks her straight at the eye. “Good. Wash up the blood on your face, you might discomfort the other patients.”

“Yes, Sister.”

She follows the Sister out the curtain, giving one last look back to him. He’s still. He’s quiet.

She exits the curtain. She doesn’t look back.

**Author's Note:**

> lol um idk what this is but this is essentially based on the hospital scene in Atonement between Briony and the French soldier. thanks for reading BBs and I’ll finish my other fics some day!


End file.
